


Comfy

by one_of_those_people



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: 10 gets a fatter ass, 10 gets a little chunky, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Burping, Gen, Hiccups, No Romance, Stuffing, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, all this is pretty tame honestly, cheesecake angst, i love tags, ooc probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22344052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_of_those_people/pseuds/one_of_those_people
Summary: Donna notices an interesting change in the Doctor that's worth mentioning.Belly kink/weight gain fic.  Don't like?  Don't read.
Relationships: Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble
Comments: 19
Kudos: 58





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my first WG fic of 2020! The last half of 2019 was hella rough and 2020 isn't much better so far but I'm managing and horny so here ya go. The summary sucks I know. Maybe I'll change it when I come up with something better idk
> 
> I've had requests related to having Donna apart of these kinds of stories and this popped into my head after seeing episode 2 of Deadwater Fell. Because David Tennant looking BEEFY as FUCK had me salivating like a dumbass. Also his tiny little tummy made me absolutely FERAL. At long last, he starts to gain some weight and he looks gorgeous as per usual. 
> 
> Please enjoy 10 getting fat because I have no shame.

The Doctor belched once the last piece of pastry disappeared down his throat, licking his lips of the sticky residue and sucking on his long fingers. Donna gave him a disapproving stare.

“Really? Can you be any more of a child?”

He shrugged, smirking, before softly burping under his breath. “’S good. Starting to fill up a bit now.”

“Finally,” Donna said with mock exasperation. “Didn’t think your hollow leg could be satiated at all.”

The Doctor burped again, adjusting the buttons on his clothing. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Donna? You don’t want to try anything on offer?”

“I already ate, but even if I wanted any I have a feeling that it’s all gone by now by the way you’re scoping out the stalls like a common scavenger.”

The Doctor chuckled to himself, continuously looking at the food available with his tongue on the tip of his teeth, looking hungrier than he was letting on. Even has he hid burps under his breath every now and again, signaling that his belly was pleasantly filled, he was still getting little treats and small takeaway items to try and eating it up like no tomorrow. 

Donna had noticed this slight change since travelling with him. Okay, ‘slight change’ was a stretch but even though the Doctor was a bit of a foodie, he seemed to have doubled his intake if she had to make an estimate. For a short while now he’d been continuously consuming food at their visits to places that didn’t involve constant danger. Even in the TARDIS, when they’d sit down to have a meal, she’d watch him ingest unfathomably large portion sizes; seeing how full he’d get when he was finished, sighing in pleasure and rubbing his swollen belly. Needless to say, he looked quite satisfied. Donna couldn’t argue with it.

The Time Lord was a strange bloke. He wasn’t a ‘bloke’ in the human sense of the word, but a strange bloke nonetheless. Unlike her, he could go without food much longer than she could, and be perfectly functional, too. With how slender he was, this change put her mind at ease despite telling herself that the gangly alien was fine.

The ginger loved how often he was enjoying himself nowadays. Not that he never did, but he seemed genuine. Less like a façade to enchant his companions and more real and tangible. Granted, she knew when it was false or hidden behind a layer of pain. But these smiles, and acts of excitement to show her new things and venture new places, were different somehow. Donna couldn’t be happier to see it. During the short time she’s known him, she knew how much he concealed as though he was the only one who should brave it.

It wasn’t until that late afternoon once she was getting hungry herself did she realize how hungry the Doctor really was.

She and him had gotten an enormous sort-of nacho plate as recommended by the waiter, though the crisps looked similar to crispy maple leaves that had dropped in autumn with a gooey green sauce as its ‘cheese’. Peppered on top were small vegetables and a protein-based product (the locals had never domesticated their fauna). It was good, if a bit strange to look at. 

Almost in amazement did she watch the Doctor hum happily at each passing chip heaping with gooey green sauce and toppings, the large serving enough to feed a family of six disappearing into him. He was consuming his meal with no qualms of slowing down.

“Can’t believe I’ve never had this before!” he said through a half-chewed mouthful. He swallowed thickly, as though he was trying to satiate his hunger as quickly as he could and was gulping down half-chewed items. He licked his lips where some green sauce escaped. “It tastes like dairy, but it’s not. Genius! Not even humans have managed to replicate it correctly. Well… at least not yet.”

Donna looked at his quickly depleting plate and back to him. She couldn’t help but notice how soft his face looked, his cheek bones slightly less prevalent and hidden underneath a layer of plush. “Maybe you should slow down, yeah? You’ve been eating all day. ‘M afraid you might burst.”

He brushed her off with a wave of his hand, though good naturedly. “Nah, I’m plenty hungry, Donna! Starving, even. I saved some room for dessert, too!”

Donna blinked in shock. “Blimey…” He had not eaten in about an hour or so since they sat down for dinner, but watching as his plate emptied was throwing her for a loop. How was he not full? 

Wiping his lips with his provided napkin, the Doctor sighed contently as he felt his heavy, large meal start to settle in his gut. It felt so lovely, to eat as much as he wanted, and to relax for a change, and this was no exception. Just as he and Donna were finishing, their waiter came back to clear their plates.

“Oh! Hello, is it possible to have the— _hic!_ —dessert menu? ‘cuse me,” he said as their waiter nodded in affirmation of his request. Donna hadn’t even finished her dinner, and the serving sizes were plenty to take home in a box. How he wasn’t stuffed to the brim was unclear to her.

Once the waiter left, the Doctor sighed, slumping back in his chair, a hand to what Donna could see was his swollen belly, the buttons on his jacket pushing against it. She gaped at the sight as the Doctor sipped his water, gently rubbing his grumbling paunch as he hid a belch. She never thought she would see the Doctor look so—for lack of a better term—human. 

“Oh, Rassilon,” he said to himself, pressing on the top of his stomach with half-lidded eyes, little burps making their way out at his gentle massages. Donna could tell that he was getting quite full now, perhaps for the first time that day. “Oof. Didn’t think I could eat this much.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Donna quipped. “Good lord, Doctor.”

The Doctor smiled smugly, looking lazy. “Time Lords can eat quite a lot more than humans if they want to. We just don’t need to, per say.” He once again belched deeply, sighing as some pressure released from his belly. “ _Ohhhh_ , that’s _much_ better.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “You’re disgusting, at least excuse yourself.”

He winked at her, snickering at her reaction to his feasting as he was given the dessert menu. Donna was happy he was properly eating more but she was also getting a bit worried when he chose possibly the largest dessert on offer: a 12-layer cake slice heaping with a frothy pink frosting. 

“Doctor, just… take it slow, yeah?”

The Doctor hiccupped hard enough to jostle his body, still pressing on his stomach and licking his lips. He was sitting normally in his chair again. From where she was sitting next to him, his belly looked considerably larger than she ever remembered it to be. Since when did the Doctor have a pot belly? 

He got out his credit stick when the waiter came around with the bill for when they were finished. “’M fine, Donna, don’t worry about me! There’s nothing to be concerned abo—” The Doctor’s eyes suddenly widened, pausing midsentence. “Oops.”

His companion winced. “Is the bill really that bad?”

“No. But, well… seems I grabbed the wrong credit stick. This only has just enough to pay for this without tip.”

Donna deadpanned. “Oh, you’re _kiddin’_ me. Can’t even offer compensation for your greedy arse. Just don’t get dessert then.”

The Doctor mumbled a burp, his eyes showing disappointment. “But… but I already ordered it.” His pout was bordering on pathetic; he had already eaten enough to satisfy himself and yet he _still_ wanted more?

“Then what? They take a fiver from me? Do they even allow that?”

“They accept off-worlder money I believe, there is an ATM nearby to convert it.”

Donna sighed dramatically. “Fine, have your bloody cake and eat it, too. I’ll handle the tip I guess. Cheap Martian…” 

Sure enough, when she left to receive the money for a tip with a groan, the Doctor was already digging into his enormous slice of dessert, all smiles and enthusiasm. He was gleefully swallowing each bite, a hand placed at the top of his rounder stomach as though for encouragement. Donna’s warnings proved her right, however, when she noticed he was slowing down, his bites less plentiful than the last as he lazily licked off some pink frosting at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t even halfway done with it.

“Finally fit to bursting?” Donna said with a knowing smirk.

The Doctor was starting to look less hungry the more he shoved in heaping helpings of cake. She noticed a slightly pained expression on his face as he once again began pressing on his growing gut, chewing slowly as though he wondered if it was worth swallowing. He burped again as he chewed, swallowing it down reluctantly.

“Gotta have my payment’s worth, Donna,” he said, sounding a little breathless. “Don’t want it to go to waste, do we?” He was putting on a smile past glazed eyes, but she could tell he couldn’t possibly fit in much more. She was going to have a very sick Time Lord if he kept shoving in cake, yet she was amazed as he continued eating.

It was slow going, piece by piece, with the urge to help sooth the pain in his gut not lost on his companion. She never thought she’d see it, but the Doctor managed to scrape off the melting frosting on the plate, a few crumbs to follow as he slurped it up in reluctance. Once he put the credit stick on the check for the waiter to take away, he slouched down in his chair, moaning as tiny hiccups jerked his belly against the table’s edge. 

The Doctor felt so full he knew he couldn’t hold much more in him. He didn’t know why he was so hungry today, but the meal he had was worth the entire day spent snacking and feasting in a city that was known for its food. How could he not eat when it was part of the experience? He grimaced at the pain of his gurgling stomach; he had certainly eaten more than he could chew, and he was paying for it by feeling his trouser button dig into his skin. When he placed a hand to his belly, he couldn’t help but notice the ample flesh there, how it hung slightly over his trousers and sat in place. 

The Doctor sucked on his digits again, blinking slowly. “Now… now that was— _hic!-urrp_ —the best meal I’ve had in ages.” He winced at the cramps forming in his stretched stomach, his content smile faltering slightly. It didn’t go unnoticed by Donna. 

“I’ll get you some seltzer, yeah?” Donna said. “You look as green as the sauce.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps that would help, yes. ’M feeling a bit like a stuffed turkey.”

“Wow, you don’t say?” 

Sure enough, his water was replaced with seltzer, which seemed to help settle the ache. It caused more gurgling, enough to make him fully express pain in his face. He rubbed at his stomach, feeling sick and wishing he had stopped eating much earlier in the evening. “Ugh… I should have listened to— _hic!_ —you.”

“Ha! Serves you right, Time Boy!” she mocked. Considering his circumstance Donna decided to pay with what they had, rolling her eyes at the incapacitated Doctor. “You need help rolling yourself out with me?”

The Doctor sniffed dramatically. “No need to rub it in.” Moving, however, was another matter entirely. The Doctor could feel his clothing stretch across his body, feeling his bum rounding out more around the fabric as he sat up and feeling just a tad bit claustrophobic. The sleepy feeling of a filled stomach and the warmth in his hearts seemed to dull that worry, though, as he felt calm. 

Donna shook her head in amusement once they were back in the TARDIS, seeing the Time Lord heavily lay himself in the console chair and putting his feet up. He placed his hands on his belly again, rubbing it as it gurgled and churned. Every once in a while, he would grimace and moan in distaste. Fumbling with his clothing, he unbuttoned the tight suit jacket and his trousers, sighing when both were unfastened. At this, he sighed in relief, his belly appearing to look even softer than before as it had more room to stretch. She could see how bloated his stomach was at this angle, not quite blocking the view of his face but was certainly halfway there. She felt the ship hum in concern over her pilot, probably sensing his discomfort. 

“Your eyes are bigger than your stomach, Doctor.” She chuckled to herself, giving his swollen belly a playful pat on her way to the hallway. “Though that _certainly_ is starting to change.” 

The Doctor’s face turned red, feeling self-conscious. “I beg your pardon?”

Donna rocked her head from side to side as though in search of the right words to say. “Well… erm… can’t help but notice that you look a bit… well… _soft_ these days. Pleasantly plump, perhaps.”

The Doctor looked down at his body, overfull from his meal and making the fabric stretch more over his clothing. The extent of his belly’s growth was prevalent when he unbuttoned his suit jacket, the maroon undershirt taut and looking smaller than he remembered. It was almost as if it was the first time he contemplated it. 

“Oh,” he said simply, thinking to himself, his blush still evident on his cheeks. “I… didn’t even notice.”

Donna tucked hair behind her ear, biting her lip at the look in his eyes. She suddenly felt very guilty with the way she put him on the spot. “I don’t mean it like that. ‘S just… different, is all.”

The Doctor pinched his flesh below the navel. His belly button appeared deeper, too, showing through the cloth of his shirt. “Suppose I have been getting a little, well… fat.” He seemed to grimace at the word.

“You _have_ been shoveling food in that gob of yours everywhere we go. I’m just glad you’re eating, at least. You look less like a bean pole, so there’s that.”

The Doctor rubbed at the back of his neck, which he usually did when he was nervous or embarrassed. Donna instantly felt bad. She didn’t mean to sour his mood. Sometimes she hated her big mouth. “I’m just really hungry, more than usual anyway. So I just… get absorbed in the moment, I guess.”

Donna gave him a warm smile, half hugging him with an arm over his shoulder. “You’re happy.”

He snorted. “Not really.”

“Oh, shut up, Doctor. You look healthy. Like you’re glowing. I’ve not seen you this relaxed before. Us going places where we don’t run into trouble, laughing, having a good time, seeing new places and things. For once I think you… you don’t look so _sad_.” She squeezed his shoulders where she had already placed her arms, her expression empathetic. “Maybe your body was telling you something.”

The Doctor pinched his flesh again, still feeling his belly’s weight and how heavily it sat on his person. He felt sleepy from his feasting, but his anxiety was not skyrocketing as he had used to feel. For once, with aid from the TARDIS, he felt comfortable. At ease, even. 

“You think so?” he asked quietly, a traitorous, optimistic side of him hopeful, as this got him thinking.

“I do,” she told him. “People eat more often and put on some weight when they’re feeling well, yeah?”

“True,” he agreed. “I guess being hungry was my body gaining back something I thought I lost. I think you’re right, Donna.” 

“You know what you haven’t lost, though? A few stone.” She laughed. “But also me. You’ve got me, dumbo.”

The Doctor shoved her away, but his eyes and smile showed mirth. “I’ll have to lose this weight if you keep saying things like _that_.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist adding a second chapter. Originally wasn't meant to have more than one but I wanted more of insecure foodie 10 and his adorable belly that, for some reason, keeps getting softer ;)

It would have happened eventually.

The Doctor had woken up, preparing for another day of adventuring with his plucky companion, only to find that the suit he was so accustomed to wearing would not for the life of him button up. 

The second to last button on his pinstriped suit was almost an inch apart from meeting, and no amount of tugging was making the space any smaller. “Hhnnng, come on!” he said to himself, knowing that Donna would be up soon. He was typically out before her and waiting for his companions by the console, yet he barely had gotten his trousers on before he was struggling with stupid buttons.

Even the undershirt he wore was straining, showing a sliver of his skin and advertising his soft gut. He often tugged it down while trying to button up his jacket, yet he had a feeling it would be one of those days where he would leave the bottom two open. But the Doctor didn’t _want_ to do that, because every time he did, he could see his prominent belly peeking through the open buttons, dipping over the waistline of his pants and making him look quite plump indeed. 

“Starting to look more than plump, now,” he said, peaking at himself in the mirror. He rubbed a hand over his protruding tummy, hating that he felt hungry already. He knew his appetite was getting a bit out of control, now, but he was enjoying himself too much to think about it in the moment when Donna was happy or being shown something new. He reached for his trousers, worryingly looking at them and knowing that it was going to be another struggle. 

Sure enough, it was a herculean effort to even get them past his thighs. Yet he still managed to get them over his plumper bum but paused when he was once again faced with more buttons. He sighed, exasperated, but tried again all the same. Not to his surprise did they struggle to meet, making him growl. In a last-ditch effort, he sucked in his tummy, managing to meet the button to the hole and successfully put his trousers on. While he had a moment, he buttoned up the suit jacket as well. Letting out his breath caused his belly to bounce back into place, but the suit jacket buttons were pressing into the malleable flesh, coupled with the trousers digging uncomfortably into his hips. He frowned at the damage. 

“There you are, then!” Donna exclaimed, hands on her hips at his bedroom door. “Been wonderin’ where you ran off to.” She saw the expression on his face. “You all right, spaceman?”

The Doctor was quick to put on a sunny disposition. “Right as rain, Donna! Ready to go?”

Donna blinked, unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m not buying that. What’s wrong?”

Now that she could see his form squeezing its way through his clothes, she gave him a lopsided grin and went into his room fully. It wasn’t as dramatic as before, but she could tell he had gained more weight, and it was starting to show. “You don’t have anything else to wear so you can feel more comfortable?”

The Doctor scoffed playful. “Donna, you insult me. How dare you assume I go outside the TARDIS in this body without a suit of any kind!” 

Donna rolled her eyes. “Then I guess that’s what you’ll have to wear, Doctor.” 

He frowned again, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against a nearby wall. “I didn’t think I’d have this problem. Being… chubby.” He twisted himself around slightly, trying to get his clothes to fit better across his current problem. It only made the undershirt ride up again.

“Doctor, you’re fine. Nothing wrong with a small belly. We’ve talked about this, yeah?”

The Doctor pinched a handful of fat on his abdomen. “This doesn’t look very small. At least not anymore.”

Donna sighed. She felt pity for him, though at a loss of what to do. “Then the only way to make it look smaller is to stop eating so much, spaceman! Just the other day you finished the rest of my dinner when I was full, _and then_ ate half an ice cream carton.”

“I can’t help that I’m bloody starving! And always hungry,” he said with a touch of aggravation. He grumbled to himself, sitting on his bed to sulk and pout. Donna couldn’t help but notice his belly rounding out more, almost sitting in his lap and taking up space. It was causing the suit jacket to almost hang over it. “Can’t believe I’m thinking this but… maybe I have to actually diet.”

“Doctor, I’ve done all of them back home and I can tell you that they’re all a waste of time. Just go back to eating the way you normally did, how you’ve always done it before you got greedy; ‘s not so bad, right?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “I mean… normally I wouldn’t eat for a few days at a time. Depending on what’s going on, I can get away with a single meal if I required it. I suppose I can try that.”

Donna nodded in affirmation. “Sounds good to me. Does that mean you won’t have breakfast with me?”

The Doctor’s frown looked pitiful. He wanted to say yes, but…

“I think I can manage breakfast,” he said, grinning. “And I know the perfect place to have it!”

Donna then watched him order three plates of food as though he hadn’t learned a thing.

* * *

The Doctor had, by some act of God, managed to avoid eating for the past two days. At first, it didn’t seem so bad. He’d tinker below the console, catch up on some reading in the library, and whenever he traveled with Donna, he’d made sure to pick places that weren’t as riddled with rich food to tempt him. However, it didn’t take long for his empty stomach to howl at him, not used to such a restriction, and as a result his anxiety had put him on edge. Under normal circumstances, this was not out of the ordinary. After feeling so good from being well fed and among friends, his body had grown used to the overabundance of sweets and treats he liked to eat in access. 

He often found himself staring off at Donna’s half eaten servings at restaurants, having not ordered anything himself, as they were taken away by servers and into the trash. He had hoped she would let him have an extra nibble, but she never did. She’d raise her eyebrow at him and then he’d sulk like a spoiled child. Donna usually yelled at him for it, though out of concern for his original intention rather than out of anger. 

The Doctor was a Time Lord. He didn’t _need_ to eat so much. He didn’t _need_ to feel so full that he’d want to rest and feel lazy and content. Yet it seemed to clash with his adventurous, wanderlust personality. He wanted to explore, but at the same time, take the time to use Donna’s advice in self-care. It was a bit of a toss-up, really. One had to give. 

The wanderlust gave in first.

Much to the Doctor’s concern, Donna had wanted a luxurious event to attend, particularly with a spa and dining area included. She and him were spending a lot of time going to places that didn’t involve them inches away from death, but Donna’s need to be spoiled every so often was not lost on the Time Lord. What he wasn’t expecting was to find an entire banquet of foods from around the world and across the galaxy at their current planet of choice. It was primarily a planet for rich people, a haven for them to spend ridiculous amounts of money on useless things that only benefited their lifestyle. This included every nibble imaginable. 

He gulped nervously, smelling the items on offer upon exiting his TARDIS as his stomach begged for him to have it. He winced at the hunger pangs, knowing that it was going to be a challenge to resist something so easily obtained. Donna sensed his keen senses pick up on their location and what was waiting for them beyond the gold engraved door. Sometimes he hated how much she can read him. 

“No snacking, you!” she scolded, adjusting her black dress.

His belly growled audibly. “I know! Blimey, I’m not a baby.” He eyed the fruit and veggie stand, pointing at it. “What about that?”

Donna thought for a moment, eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, ‘m sure that’s fine. ‘S just healthy stuff. But don’t eat everything on the table!”

The Doctor begrudgingly agreed, and the fancy party was in swing. The Doctor would mingle among guests, sometimes with and without Donna in tow, and for a moment he thought he was in the clear. Wealthy people at this time period were surprisingly not as snooty as usual, but he couldn’t help but feel them putting on airs just by talking with them. One liberal, out of touch comment too many made him increasingly irritated. 

Unable to stand the hunger pangs any longer (or the people, if he was honest), the Doctor retreated to the fruit and veggie stands to grab a few of each kind. He could hardly name all of them, there was so many. Licking his lips, he picked up a plate and put as many different kinds of fruit and vegetables there were on display. He hummed at the taste of a particularly large, juicy strawberry, its flavor not as tart as they were through genetic engineering; it was almost as sweet as candy. Next came the cranberries, and the starfruit; goji berries; Orcutinë radishes, about seven of them; kumquats and a jackfruit/durian hybrid; cooked bamboo shoots dripping with a sweet honey sauce; Pan’ur ferns and exotic peppers and— 

_Bananas._

The list was endless, but all coherent thoughts left him when he could see at least ten different banana species and hybrids that he knew he had before but was all too excited to have now. Before he could stop himself, he was stacking his plate with three of each kind. In the back of his mind, the Doctor knew he was pushing his luck with Donna being close by, but the moment he removed the skin of his favorite fruit, he was a goner. He practically inhaled the sweet, yet tentative, flavor of banana, licking his lips and swallowing it all down. He sighed with relief, rubbing his soft belly and being careful not to fiddle with the buttons too much. Licking his fingers clean, he stifled a few burps and felt his mood lift, his previous feelings of discomfort gone. Fruit and vegetables were by no means a complete meal, when he wanted several, but he was enjoying the feeling of food in his belly again. 

“HEY!” 

The Doctor jumped in place, realizing that his plate was still stacked to the top with treats. He blinked once he saw the angry face of Donna Noble. 

“Are you kiddin’ me? You’re at a bloody fruit stand and you’re eating your weight in it?” Donna said, trying hard not to cause a scene for once.

“I couldn’t ignore it anymore! I’ve not eaten in two days!” He pointed back to the stand. “See, the table is still filled with fruit and veg. No harm done!”

Donna sighed, rubbing her temple. “Doctor, you’ve got to stop with the portion sizes. Keep stuffing yourself like that and you’ll get even bigger. If you want to lose that belly of yours, you have to limit yourself, yeah?”

The Doctor sighed. “I’m very much aware. Sorry.”

Donna’s anger melted away, giving way to a soft smile with a squeeze to his arm. She could even feel his fleshier arms through the fabric of his suit, feeling just as plush as his cheeks were getting. “Nothing to be sorry about. Don’t beat yourself up about it, okay?” 

“I’m just so used to enjoying myself this way, that’s all.”

“Tell you what? There’s this theater event happening in thirty, you want to go see it with me instead of me going alone?”

The Doctor wrinkled his nose. “Wasn’t it on the history of this place? Not sure if I really want to be reminded of their contributions to Ood slavery throughout the centuries.”

Donna deadpanned. “Will it keep you from inhaling food like a vacuum cleaner?”

The Doctor sniffed. “Probably.”

“Then you know the answer to what I want to do! Now come on, you daft martian.”

Donna grabbed his hand and dragged him away, but not before he caught a whiff of the desserts on offer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm so sorry for not updating for so long! Lots of irl stuff and mental health garbage happened but I finished this whole chapter out in one night because I felt like ASS all day and was like "hmm, I know what will help".
> 
> Enjoy the (presumably) last chapter!
> 
> edit - fixed some typos and errors. I wrote this quickly so I missed a few parts where I repeated words or mis-typed letters.

He spotted it the moment he left the theater. All the desserts, sitting almost untouched among the guests. How could they ignore it like that? Not letting it tempt them to have a bite of the pastries and bits of chocolate; tarts of all sorts and the delightful smells of different fruit pies and powdered Turkish Delights and— 

Oh, no, wait… that was just him. 

Much to the Doctor’s frustration, he was growing hungry again. The film did little to help him, though he’d give it an F for its clear celebratory nature of its use of slavery. That did make him feel sick, considering one of their more recent adventures that took place farther in the future. It was all he could think about, the dessert table. He’d been craving sweets for days at a time, with plenty of distractions and temptations all around him. Yet he didn’t give in, to make sure he was on his best behavior and to hopefully make some form of progress on losing the fat around his middle. He could only whine in distaste as his stomach grumbled at him. Apparently, it was loud enough for Donna to hear.

“Are you seriously still hungry? Are you kiddin’ me?”

He grimaced at the feeling of his stomach churning. He was so famished that he felt sick. “’M afraid so. Blimey, I hate this. Nothing seems to quiet this belly.” 

Donna rolled her eyes as if it were obvious. “You can go back to the fruit stand, that seemed to help a bit, yeah? Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped you, though. It wasn’t really enough to tie you over. Don’t think anyone can be tied over by it if I’m frank.”

“Oh, _finally_ she’s gets it,” the Doctor quipped.

“Oi!” Donna said, slapping his arm. “Keep that up and no calories will be entering that gob of yours.”

The sound of music and the turning of heads caught both of their attentions. The Doctor and Donna turned around to see the one person neither of them wanted to see: the very head of the Ood slave trade. The Doctor practically glared at him, hating how all the guests gathered around to listen to him speak and thank everyone for coming. Self-important, imperialistic—

“Oh!” Donna said quietly with glee, interrupting the Doctor’s colorful tirade inside his head. The Doctor noticed one of the friends she made, a particularly handsome gentleman that he caught her flirting with for the entire night. Donna waved at him when he caught her eye, and he could only smile at that. Donna was a catch if a bloke was willing to handle someone with spunk. 

He nudged her shoulder in encouragement. “Go on, now. Potential boyfriend material, he is.”

Donna looked at him suspiciously, her eyes drifting to the tables before returning to his normally trustworthy brown eyes. She squinted, clearly at war with herself. “And how do I know you won’t be stuffing your face while I snog him?”

_Busted._

The Doctor cursed himself for thinking she wouldn’t catch on. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

Donna barked a laugh, unimpressed. “Considering your track record, I find that hard to believe.”

The Doctor practically growled to himself, impatient and upset at how hungry he was getting. “Donna just… trust me, all right? I just wanted to grab more bananas, I swear. I’m a Time Lord, for Rassilon’s sake, I don’t need a baby sitter! I’ve been doing this for 900 years, and I clearly don’t need you to tell me what to do.” 

Donna looked ready to slap him, but with her “friend” not very far away and looking very interested in her as the Imperialistic Git kept making his speech, she was torn. She sighed dramatically. “Fine. Get something to eat, enjoy yourself, whatever. I’m trustin’ you, Spaceman. Only the fruit stand! You got that?”

The Doctor half saluted in jest. “Yes, ma’am!”

Donna rolled her eyes, glaring at him with two of her fingers pointing at him as a warning before she half ran to her consort. The Doctor waited to watch her go, and it made him giggle to see the gentleman twirl her in place.

Truth be told, the Doctor did indeed just want to tie himself over with bananas. They _were_ delicious after all, and practically irresistible. However, he couldn’t help but let his promise morph into a white lie as he drifted over to the sweets table while Donna was preoccupied with her beau. It didn’t help, of course, that the fruit stand was just two tables away from what he really wanted. He’d been eyeing a few of the tarts from afar, wanting to try them for himself. He licked his lips, still tasting the couple of bananas he devoured and hoping for something sweeter to hit his tongue.

Using his plate, he grabbed one of the tarts, biting into it and shutting his eyes at the enjoyment of it. He hummed at the taste, a hybrid flavor of several fruits all joined into one beautiful rainbow. And it all went out the window once he tasted pear.

He scrunched up his face in disgust, thankful that there was a waste bin just feet away. He spat it out, thankful that no one was around to see it. “Gross. Awful. Why would you put pear in a tart? _Why_?” He paused, adding quietly, “Oh, that was me being rude again.”

The Doctor lifted his head back up, hoping something else more satisfying would satiate his cravings, and all his wishes came true at the sight he saw.

The Doctor had tasted a lot of different foods, and yet one of the foods he hadn’t had in almost half his lifetime was cheesecake. He stood up straighter, his mouth already filling up with saliva at the sight.

“Oh, _hello there_ ,” he said, grinning. The slices were precut already, the cheesecake a lovely yellow with a lavender-colored cream coating the top edges. He never thought the colors could work together and yet it was pleasant to his eyes and, most importantly, sense of smell. And it did smell divine. In the center was a thick layer of chocolate, though the Doctor didn’t think it was a shell. It wasn’t like the Doctor to not know something, of course. This required a thorough analysis. Or so he told himself. 

He bit his lip, looking down at the cheesecake the size of his own head and wondering if it was worth the risk while Donna was near. Seeing said belly rest slightly on the table in front of him without him noticing made him pause, as it felt so big and round and uncomfortable, but its growling made him make up his mind. He was frankly sick of that noise.

“Oh, I _really_ shouldn’t do this,” he said, using a prong to give himself a slice. “But… but I really, _really_ want to.” He couldn’t help grinning, his natural need to rebel making him giddy. 

All the sugary, creamy, thick cake exploded on his tongue once he cut a bit off the edge of the cake near the crust, causing him to practically moan at the sheer ecstasy of it. Whoever made it would be making Gordon Ramsey jealous, as he couldn’t seem to get enough of it. He whimpered at the taste as he swallowed, missing it already. Two days without food, without substantial, _rich_ food, was driving him mad. 

He couldn’t stop now, as he finished the piece and hummed at the harmony of the lavender cream and what he found out to be a lovely chocolate pudding coating the top. He licked off said chocolate at the corner of his mouth, looking back to see if Donna was still preoccupied. She very much was. Perfect.

The Doctor spoiled himself with a second piece, knowing that people weren’t around yet and he could do so with ease. Once again, it felt like it was tasting better with each slice, as he whined at how good it was. He hadn’t tasted a cheesecake this well made in so long. It had to come at a time when he was getting fat off of all of this food and needed to stop. Yet he didn’t.

The moment the second piece was gone, he found that he wanted more. The Doctor paused, noticing that he couldn’t keep doing this, not here. There was still so much cake left, his third slice already on his place, yet he didn’t feel the least bit full. If anything, his stomach was still grumbling and gurgling, and he knew he had to make a decision on what to do about it.

Looking back again, feeling a bit manic with hunger, he gleefully noticed that the guests, Donna included, were preoccupied with a dance happening away from the all the food. He had his chance now. Picking up what was left of the cheesecake, he took the whole thing off the table, being careful not to drop it. Down the hall, he remembered there to be a few benches and seating areas for guests to mingle. No one would be there. He’d have the enormous hallway to himself, with an equally enormous cake for him to savor. 

The Doctor should be feeling a little ashamed, maybe even doubtful, that he was setting his mind to consuming an entire cake, but he didn’t, at least not initially. He polished off his third slice on the tiny plate, but soon didn’t bother using it. With the slices already precut, it made it easy to eat. The pudding on top was starting to melt slightly, coating his fingers with it, but the Doctor made up for the slight mess by shoving the cheesecake into his mouth, no utensils required, filling his cheeks and practically in heaven. He sighed once he managed to swallow, burping under his breath as he finally felt his belly filling up again. He didn’t bother cleaning his fingers, as he was adamant about feeling full for once.

The cake seemed endless; bite after bite, the soft filling disappearing down his throat, bloating his belly further. He regretted not getting something to drink to help wash it down but knew it would risk Donna seeing him and him having to leave the cheesecake partially eaten. It didn’t matter in the end, as he kept shoveling in more. His body was thanking him, his brain firing off dopamine at a job well done as he picked up the third to last piece.

It felt like it could go on forever, the taste that he couldn’t get tired of, the feeling of it hitting his stomach and finally feeling satiated. How could it stop when it felt so wonderful and delicious and decadent as hell and— 

The Doctor belched under his breath, huffing as he leaned back against the bench, a sleepy palm on his engorged tummy. He almost felt as heavy as the cheesecake, as he was starting to feel all of it finally start to take up space. Lazily licking his lips, he still had a craving for it, unable to really stop himself, as he reached over for yet another piece for the sheer act of being greedy. He only grabbed air.

He widened his eyes, looking down. He shouldn’t be shocked, but he was. All that was left was the platter it came on, bits and pieces of the crust, cream, and cake lining the edges. He hiccupped, covering his mouth as he examined the damage. His belly was practically sitting in his lap, overfull beyond capacity and having long since broken the button off his trousers. He hadn’t even noticed his trousers loosening during his binge, rubbing the area where the too-tight trousers ounce dug into his belly and now left an indent. His maroon undershirt was riding up again, permanently stuck around his bloated belly no matter how many times he tried to pull it back down.

He felt his stomach gurgling again, but this time he didn’t feel the least bit hungry.

“Oh gods,” he said, burping again, gently rubbing his sensitive middle with a hiss. “This isn’t good. Can’t—”, a concealed hiccup made his belly jump under his hands, “—can’t… move…”

The Doctor felt he swallowed several bowling balls, as the cheesecake he was so eager to swallow was catching up with him now. Even attempts to adjust his position in his seat left him breathless, feeling unable to sit up, let alone stand.

He couldn’t stay sitting here, not when he could be caught in the act. Either way he wouldn’t be able to really hide it, with his stomach comically rounder than before, but he had hoped to have controlled himself before it got to this state. All of it started to not matter pretty quickly when all of the cake sitting and digesting in him started to make him feel very, very sick.

“DOCTOR!”

The Doctor panicked. There wasn’t much he could do about it, but he still tried to move. Failed. He whimpered at the feeling, pain shooting up his middle and making him cry out. He was practically glued to his seat. The cake didn’t look that big, how could this be? He hiccupped again, hard, helpless and queasy as he heard the clip-clap of Donna’s wedged-shaped heels.

“Doctor, I swear to—”

Donna looked a bit frazzled, as though she and her beau were in the middle of something before she had noticed his absence, yet she stopped and stared at the sight she saw after spending the past few minutes looking for the daft idiot alien she travelled with. And of course, unsurprisingly to her, there he was: gorging himself once again.

What technically surprised her at all was just how much he had gorged on.

She sighed, rubbing her temple and could only feel immense pity for her best friend. He looked so comfortable yet so _un_ comfortable at the same time, his face looking pale while his cheeks remained flushed. If Donna were honest, he looked quite pathetic. But he was in pain and it broke her heart.

“Oh, Doctor… I can’t ever leave you alone, can I?” 

The Doctor’s face was the dictionary definition of regret. “ _HIC!_ Donna… ‘m sorry. _HIC!_ Ate too much — _HIC!_ — too fast.” He once again tried to sit up. Failed. “I physically can’t move.”

Donna went to his side, clearly still annoyed but was worried about him. Placing the platter on the floor, Donna sat down next to him, hoping to help him sit up. He only cried out in pain.

“I can’t,” he said, looking too sick for his own good and Donna couldn’t help but get a kick out of him finally realizing what him being gluttonous was causing. 

She sighed. “Is there any way I can help you, here? The TARDIS is in the other mingling area.”

The Doctor hiccupped, his hand rubbing the dome of his stomach in an attempt to ease his nausea. “’M not sure, nothing is helping and— _hic!_ —I can’t get up to get something with me being so bloody full an—”

He stopped talking once he felt Donna’s hand gently rubbing small circles on his clothed belly, causing him to sigh with relief.

“’S that where it hurts? Right here?” she asked, alternating between the side and very top of his stomach. She was looking less angry with him and concentrating on easing his stomachache, which the Doctor was grateful for.

“Oh yes,” he said, carefully swallowing his saliva and still tasting that lovely pudding from when the cheesecake actually existed. “Thank you, Donna. You’re a natural.”

“Oh, don’t thank me just yet, Time Boy, you’re still in hot water,” she said teasingly, patting the side of his belly and causing him to wince. “Sorry…”

For the past few minutes the Doctor just focused on breathing and trying not to throw up every time a hiccup jostled his body. Donna could feel them through his belly, and she winced along with him. They sounded like they were painful and not helping his current problem.

“I’d get you seltzer, but I don’t know if I should ever leave you alone again. Afraid you might eat someone who wanders out here.”

The Doctor burped behind his fist. “Not funny.”

Donna smirked. “It kinda is.”

He burped again, grinning at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah… maybe it is. I’m so sorry, Donna.”

Donna waved her hand in the air dismissively. “Doctor, I was a moron to leave you alone and thinking you’d not cave in. But… I think you should _possibly_ control your portions a bit, yeah? So you don’t get so sick again? What do you say?”

The Doctor half-moaned once Donna gently pressed the side of his belly, releasing the painful cramp. “I’d have to agree with you.”

From a distance, the crowd of people that were originally listening to the head of the Ood slave trade were traveling back into the main room, much to their horror. The speech was over, Donna missed out on a night in, and it was about to get worse. 

“Hold on…” someone said. “Where’d the cake go? I left it right here!”

The two traveling companions blanched. Donna glanced at an embarrassed, flushing Doctor. “In the mood for a jog?”

The Doctor only moaned.


End file.
